Chick Flick
by BaldiDaughterChevy
Summary: No pay per view means no Casa Erotica...and the wifi is down at this shitty motel. No Netflix. Guess Dean will have to watch whatever's on TV. His choice surprises Sam.


**Sorry, my title sucks ass. Best I could come up with.**

 **I'm sure I'm not the first one to think of something like this but I just had to get it down.**

 **Not sure of the exact timeline, sometime after season 7.**

 **Don't own Supernatural, I just like to play with the boys and make them actually talk to each other.**

 **Rated T for cursing.**

 **Have pity on me, there are undoubtedly grammatical errors throughout.**

"Just once could you leave me even a *little* hot water?" Sam's toweling off his hair and stepping out of the bathroom while he gripes at Dean."I mean, how does it take you so long in the shower, anyways? You call *me* a girl."

Sam sits down on the edge of his bed and finally lifts his head out from under the towel. "Dean...? Whoa, Dean what are you watching."

The last sentence comes out as a laugh and Dean shifts uncomfortably.

"What? It's the only thing that was on. It was either this or a bunch of white, fatties singing gospel music. I picked the lesser of two evils."

"But, Dean..." Sam's got a sly smile on his face "I believe this is what you call a chick flick."

Dean looks 1000 percent more embarrassed than if Sam had caught him watching porn. That has happened too many times anyway-it's a non-issue at this point; 'ok, Dean's watching skin flicks again, don't talk about it, just walk away' that's the bro-code approved protocol for that situation.

That should probably be Sam's approach now, but there's some things he can't just let go. And Dean, his hard-ass, overly manly, bullets, booze, and beer kinda brother watching...what even is he watching? Something with Adam Sandler. 50 First Dates? Sam thinks that's what it is but he's a little rusty on his chick flicks. He's pretty rusty on movie knowledge in general;saving the world doesn't leave a whole lot of time for catching up on current pop culture. Anyways, Dean watching a movie without any blood, guns, or naked women is a bona fide miracle and Sam's gotta tease him for it.

"Ahem...there's a box of tissues right by the bed. If you get emotional." Sam snickers, sliding the tissues over to Dean's side "oh yeah and I just wanted to let you know, you're out of tampons. I know it's your time of the month soon so I thought I'd warn you." Sam immediately ducks for the assault that he's sure is coming, expecting Dean to throw a pillow or the remote at his head or at least come back with some kind of banter. He's surprised when the blow never falls.

Dean just shakes his head and remains uncharacteristically quiet, watching the television with a flat expression like he's in a daze.

Maybe he's just tired, Sam thinks. He has a right to be tired, if anyone does it's Dean.

Sam finishes getting ready for bed, uses the bathroom, brushes his teeth, combs his hair, and when he comes back out into the room Dean's still just sitting there. On top of the blankets, holding the remote, in the same position he was in when Sam left ten minutes ago. The movie is playing but he's barely registering it, staring at the screen like it's a blank wall.

After the last commercial break and the final scene and the end credits Dean finally shakes out of his trance a little bit.

Sam's reading about a possible case on his laptop, or rather, pretending to while he watches Dean out of the corner of his eye.

He sets the remote down and sighs, a quiet, restrained sigh that Sam only catches because he's watching him so closely.

Dean gets up and goes to the fridge for a beer, then he comes back and sits back down on his bed.

"Not gonna offer me one?" Sam prods, trying to break Dean out of his silence.

Dean still doesn't say anything, just gets back up, goes back over and gets Sam a beer. He cracks it open with his knife and hands it to him, then sits down again, his legs spread out in front of him, eyes fixed straight ahead.

Sam can't stand it anymore. He put his laptop on the bedside table along with his untouched beer and swings his long legs off the bed so that he's sitting on the edge, facing Dean. "Talk to me, man." He says simply.

Dean throws him a deadpan glance, and looks away again. "I'm fine, Sam. Quit askin'."

Sam shakes his head. "Dean, this is the first time I've said anything about how you're acting."

"Yeah, right." Dean laughs, a dry sound like he just blew air out through his nose. "You've been asking all night. You haven't said anything but you've been asking. Hell, you're always asking, Sam. And sometimes I'm not talking."

"Sometimes...?" Sam shakes his head again at that "Sometimes?! Dean when do you ever talk to me? And guess what you can't even say 'no chick flick moments' now because you just fucking watched an entire chick flick."

"I told you, that's all that was on!"* Dean sounds like he wants to be more angry but can't even summon the energy.

"Dean..."

"I'm done talking, Sam."

"I'm just asking because I care that you're ok."

"Well can you care a little quieter? I need to sleep now."

"Dean...?" Sam tries again but he shuts the light off and rolls over facing the wall.

"You know I can still talk to you even with the light off." Sam rolls his eyes in the darkness

"Yeah, well at least this way I don't have to see those pitiful puppy dog eyes staring at me."

Sam sighs audibly and repositions his long legs so that he's sitting half up on the bed once again. "Ok, Dean, you're not talking and I guess I have to respect that. But you've been acting off for days now and I'm just concerned. I want you to know that if you wanna talk to me, as always, I'm here to listen."

Dean doesn't respond, just stays facing the wall, his back to Sam.

After awhile Sam slides down and lays on the bed. He closes his eyes and hears Dean take a deep, slow breath from the bed beside him.

Sam has nearly drifted off when Dean's voice breaks the silence.

It's quiet but calm and maybe a little rougher than usual. "It was Lisa's favorite movie. I tried to get out of watching it with her. We flipped a coin, it was that or Die Hard and she won fair and square." Dean's finally talking, his reservations lifted, either by Sam's offer to listen or by the cloak of the darkness, Sam isn't sure which. Sam lays quietly, fulfilling his promise while Dean speaks.

"She loved every romantic comedy. Drug me to a few of them when they came out in the theater. I complained but I didn't really mind. You should have seen how hard she laughed at those stupid movies. She had a great laugh." Dean interrupts his own soliloquy to clear his throat. His next words are so quiet Sam almost doesn't hear him. "I miss them. God, I do." Dean whispers.

"I'm sorry, Dean." Sam knows that's not the most original thing but can't think what else to say.

The silence settles, punctuated only by the occasional sniff from Dean's side of the room that Sam politely ignores.

"Hey, Sam?" Dean speaks after a long time and Sam stirs himself from the brink of sleep.

"Yeah, Dean?" There's a long pause and Sam thinks Dean fell asleep.

"Oof!" Sam gasps as he's hit on top of the head by a flying remote.

"That's for the tampon remark." Dean laughs.

"Dammit, Jerk!" Sam shouts but he's laughing too.

"That's what you get. Bitch."

~End

 **Meh...idk, that was pretty dumb. I just had to write it because it sounded nice in my head and I wanted see if it looked as nice written down.**

 **Thanks for reading! Let me know if you liked it! :)**


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